Prologue
Charlee-Mae Chastity "Cha-Cha" Carmichaels was no saint. She believed in the Lord Jesus, yes, but as a woman of substance from the Lone Star state, she also believed in the healing powers of cussing, cholesterol-rich food, and running a yellow light at max speed.
A woman of patience, she also never claimed to be, and this trait was most evident when Charlee-Mae had even managed to make her dear Mama prematurely deliver her on one cold February day.
Other babies might be fine with the usual thirty-six weeks, but for Charlee-Mae, seven months in Chi-Chi's womb were more than long enough, thank you very much. Waiting was the greatest invention of the Devil, and it was why, now that Charlee-Mae was about to turn thirty-two, she had finally come to a decision.
"Good morning, Charlotte!"
The CEO of Heart's Match returned her greeting with noticeable wariness, but Charlee-Mae simply took this in stride. Charlotte wouldn't be Charlotte if she wasn't overthinking one thing or the other.
Charlotte's wariness grew as she watched the curvaceous blonde advance into her office with her trademark mini-dress, thigh-high boots, and the usual mix of sass and grace. Ignorance was often bliss, and right now, she would have truly preferred she had no reason to dread what was to come.
But because she had known the other woman for years, Charlotte also knew that the expression on Charlee-Mae's heart-shaped face usually meant something crazy was about to happen.
"I'm back," her visitor declared gaily, "and oooh—-" The other woman halted in her tracks to take a quick appreciative look of her surroundings. "You redecorated your office."
"I did, yes." Charlotte's office used to be all dark wood and manly, since the room was originally her husband's study. Now, however, the walls had been painted a matte shade of white, and the heavy antique furniture replaced with sleeker and more contemporary ones like a simple standing desk from IKEA, a custom-designed gaming chair, and lots and lots of flowers.
"I love it!"
"I love it, too," Charlotte said, "and as much as I wish to think that my renovated office is the reason for your visit—-"
"It's not," Charlee-Mae said brightly.
"I thought so."
"Aaaaand...just like I told you the last time we spoke, I wouldn't change my mind, and I haven't, so..." Charlee-Mae threw her arms out. "Ta-da! I'm here, and I'm so ready to sign a contract!"
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
"Then I'll pretend you did," Charlee-Mae retaliated. "Because I mean it, Char. I've made up my mind—-"
Charlotte bit back a sigh. "I think what you mean to say is that you've lost your mind."
But this only made the other woman laugh as she took a seat across Charlotte's desk. "You can say whatever you want, but it won't make a difference. I've made my choice, and I know in my heart God has my back with this."
Grrr. Charlotte absolutely hated it when Charlee-Mae included God in the equation, mostly because she knew for a fact that Charlee-Mae did pray a lot, and since God was supposed to work in mysterious ways—-
"God wants a strong, independent woman like me to set an example—-"
Charlotte was bewildered. "By signing-up for a mail-order marriage?"
"So unbecoming of you to grumble, Char."
"I was not—-"
"And I know you think I'm not taking this seriously, but I am. Signing-up for a mail-order marriage shows that I'm willing to do what it takes to find my match—-"
"But marriage isn't just any match," Charlotte protested. "It's a lifelong commitment, and you really, truly need to think this through—-"
Charlee-Mae felt slightly offended. "And I did!"
"Really?" This was Charlee-Mae, after all. "Exactly how long did you think this through?"
Charlee-Mae tried to estimate the number of minutes she spent cooped up inside her pickup because of rush-hour traffic. "About ninety minutes?"
"Cha-Cha!"
"But it could be a hundred," Charlee-Mae quickly corrected herself, "if I also count the stopover at—-"
"It can be two hundred or two thousand," Charlotte interrupted in exasperation, "and it still won't be enough. Marriage isn't something you think about for just minutes. Or even hours. This isn't like you're just choosing who will be your date to next year's Yuletide Ball—-"
"You're using your judgmental tone again," Charlee-Mae accused the other woman with a hurt look. "Can't you just be flattered by how much I trust in your matchmaking abilities?"
"Not. At. All!" Charlotte tried her best to sound like a nasty bitch, but all this earned from Charlee-Mae was a pout.
"But I really believe this is what I'm destined for—-"
"Oh, please." Charlotte was unimpressed by the way Charlee-Mae was suddenly clutching her chest like she had just been stabbed in the heart. "Stop being a drama queen."
"I'm not! I really mean it when I said God—-"
Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Marrying a mail-order groom is not some higher calling—-"
"It is! To me!" When Charlotte only looked at her, Charlee-Mae didn't hesitate to resort to shameless begging. "Please, Char!" She also wasn't above using puppy eyes if she believed it would help her get her way. "Please, please, please—-"